


In the Devil's Defense

by fellowshipper



Series: grief in the sound, guilt in the fame [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, in which nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4316892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellowshipper/pseuds/fellowshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this was what his life had come to, Tony thought, chin propped in his hand as he watched his robot-therapist spin in confused circles when it hit a power cord stretched across the floor. He’d actually turned to a machine for personal advice, just like Rhodey had always said he would.</p><p>And then Thor happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Devil's Defense

“So do you think I pissed her off too much this time?” 

DUM-E lowered its one arm and made an indecipherable whirring noise. 

“You’re no help. Hand me the soldering iron over there, would you?” 

With a chirp that indicated its eagerness to help, DUM-E rolled a few feet away to retrieve the tool from a nearby table. 

So this was what his life had come to, Tony thought, chin propped in his hand as he watched his robot-therapist spin in confused circles when it hit a power cord stretched across the floor. He’d actually turned to a machine for personal advice, just like Rhodey had always said he would. And it wasn’t even the more functionally useful AI, either; he’d programmed JARVIS to mimic elements of his own personality for the explicit purpose of being able to bounce ideas off his own head, essentially. But he’d tried hashing out personal problems with the AI before, and he’d never quite managed to shake the feeling that JARVIS was quietly judging him.

People, then. An honest-to-god human would be an obvious choice, but what was he supposed to do? Who was he supposed to tell about his relationship with a certain villainous, shape-changing, gender-bending alien of questionable sanity? Was it even a relationship at all? Who would listen to him without punching him or lecturing him or just blowing him off as a liar? 

Pepper was at the top of the list, but as their dating status could best be likened to a merry-go-round, she wasn’t the ideal pick to listen to Tony bear his soul about a girlfriend (and occasional boyfriend) with poor communication skills and _amazingly_ bad interpersonal skills. 

Rhodey would listen, _had_ listened, to many of Tony’s aimless ramblings before, but those ramblings were almost always related to work. He was fairly certain that the first time he discussed anything close to a romantic relationship, Rhodey would immediately start grilling him on wedding plans and when Tony planned to introduce him.

Bruce? Yeah, that ended badly in every way Tony imagined the conversation could possibly go. 

Natasha was the most likely candidate for not passing moral judgment, but that was complicated by the fact she was also the most likely to murder Tony in some creative and non-incriminating way while he slept once he divulged the source of his trouble. 

Clint—no. Just no. 

Steve? Ditto. 

And then there was Thor. For as much as Thor hung around between supervillain threats on Earth and princely duties in Asgard and antique shopping with Jane Foster or whatever he did between battles, Tony actually knew little about him. True, Thor was always more than happy to talk about his home when asked about it, but to Tony’s knowledge, no one had ever asked about the overall Asgardian philosophy regarding same-sex couples. Or couples who were the same sex only part of the time. Or dating in general. Or Loki in particular—well, no. Bruce, innocent as he was, gently broached the subject once over pizza, then abandoned the topic when Thor’s perpetual smile faded and he began staring at his food rather than his friends. 

Tony hardly thought he could expect things to go better if he asked Thor what his thoughts were about Tony using his little brother as a fuck buddy. Never mind that the using in question very clearly went both ways. 

“I mean, it’s not—thanks.” Tony accepted the soldering iron and, somewhat awkwardly, patted DUM-E on the approximation of its head. The robot let out a suspiciously happy chirp in response. “It’s not like Loki’s some precious snowflake too delicate to even look at. I don’t care what form that creep takes, male or female. Still polishing a turd, you know?” 

DUM-E had nothing to say to that, so Tony continued. 

“And it’s not like mutual insults aren’t part of the appeal for both of us. But she seemed pretty pissed last night. Like, _actually_ pissed, not just doing the usual haughty princess thing.” 

He scooted forward on the workbench, leaning over to get a better look at his project. Clint’s automated quiver had taken a direct hit the day before, and Tony had promised to build a more durable cylinder to rotate the arrows, somewhere between drinks and getting distracted by a pretty face and then ending up feeling sorry for himself somewhere in New Jersey and eating takeout with his cab driver. 

“I like to think I’ve gotten better at figuring out when I’ve really screwed up, you know? I thought we were doing okay. Then she got all weird and moody on me when I pointed out that, news flash, we’d make the worst parents any reality could ever produce. Or I would, anyway. Don’t know about her or him or whatever body Loki would pick, but I think the kid would be doomed from the start no matter what.” 

DUM-E whirred again and turned ninety degrees to face the wall. Tony snorted. 

“Yeah, thanks for the consult.” 

“Sir—” 

“That wasn’t your cue, J.” 

“ _Sir_ ,” JARVIS went on, sounding a bit put out by the interruption, “Mr. Odinson is requesting entry into the workshop.” 

For a brief moment, Tony felt his heart leap into his throat with embarrassing quickness. Just as quickly, though, it sank back down and through his chest, all the way to the pit of his stomach.

Wrong Odinson. 

Thor stood several feet away on the other side of the glass door, waiting patiently while he watched Tony work. 

“Shit. JARVIS, is my will up to date?” 

“I’m not aware that you have one, sir.” 

“Fine. Leave everything to Rhodey and Pepper. They can sort it out. Bruce gets custody of the kids, though. Pepper would donate your bodies to science, and Rhodey would use you as target practice. Take care of your little brothers.” 

“If you are referring to your robots,” JARVIS began, and there was absolutely no mistaking the disdain in his tone, like he no longer considered himself one of _them_ , “I believe that DUM-E is the oldest, technically speaking.” 

“You’re the only one with sense, though.” 

Thor tapped on the glass with his knuckles. 

“Wish me luck. Let him in.” 

The door unlocked with a quiet clicking noise. 

Even without his armor, even dressed like a normal human being in jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, Thor was still an imposing sight. Mjolnir was nowhere to be seen, which might have been reassuring if not for the knowledge that it could come tearing through the walls at any time in response to Thor’s call. Which, Tony had pointed out more than once, was a really cool trick, one that he planned to figure out and incorporate into the next version of the Iron Man suit. People could control simple computer programs and artificial limbs with their minds, thanks to an implanted neuro-chip. Thor just happened to come from a place where such abilities came standard, so it seemed. All Tony had to do was bridge that gap between manufactured and natural. 

“Hey, big guy,” Tony greeted at last, offering up a bright smile in hopes of appealing to Thor’s usual good nature. Predictably, Thor returned the gesture and nodded as he walked over to the workbench where Tony sat. 

“Good evening, my friend.” 

“What brings you all the way down to the pit?” 

Thor glanced around, lips twisting into a vaguely amused grin. “I have seen pits, Tony. This is a palace compared to most.” 

“Hey, you know what? Coming from an actual prince who _lives_ in a palace, I’ll take it.” 

Loki had told Tony stories about Thor’s childish arrogance—embellished, no doubt, by the many layers of resentment Loki had so lovingly crafted over the centuries—and Thor had even mentioned his embarrassing younger years from time to time. Really, given the way he waved off the near-compliment and shook his head, Tony had to wonder what Thor was like then, before he got taken down a notch or twelve. Brash. Untouchable. A womanizer who split his time between chasing women and chasing greater glory, right up until a catalyst that would either completely change his life or end it. 

Tony had a feeling he already knew exactly what Thor must have been like. 

“Have a seat,” he went on, gesturing toward a rolling stool near the workbench. Thor pulled it over with a quiet “thank you” and sat down, looking comically large atop it. Tony mentally calculated the odds of the thing breaking under the god’s immense weight, then decided he’d rather not say anything about it and just watch the inevitable, hilarious results. 

“Am I interrupting?” Thor asked suddenly, eying the array of tools scattered across the table in front of him. 

“Hmm? Oh, no. I’m just fixing the motor in Clint’s quiver, which is not, in fact, an innuendo of any sort.” 

“We have these in Asgard.” He paused, idly turning one of the arrows over in his hands. “The mechanical quiver, although if ‘innuendo’ means what I believe it does, we have that as well.” 

Tony chuckled quietly to himself. Sometimes he was reminded why he genuinely liked Thor. 

“There a lot of archers?” Tony asked for conversation’s sake, head bowed over his work but not so far he didn’t see Thor shake his head. 

“There are some, but swords are preferred by far. Some consider archers to be afraid of a proper fight.” 

“Some?” 

Thor placed the arrow back on the table. “I don’t, of course. I find their skills admirable and most useful.” 

_He always said there was nothing honorable about my sorcery. In a fit of anger once during an argument, he cursed me for a coward because I fought from a distance. He told me to go back to casting illusions to entertain simple-minded serving girls instead of pretending I had any place on a battlefield._

Tony blinked away the memory and forced another small smile for Thor’s benefit. What was he supposed to say? _Yeah, that’s nice, but after I got done having sex with your brother-turned-sister a while back, she told me something else entirely._ Tony had come face to face with death often enough in the past few years to gain a new appreciation for life and the role keeping his mouth shut played in _keeping_ that life. 

“Huh,” he replied instead, keeping his voice as neutral as he possibly could. “That’s big of you. I mean, for a guy who takes the ‘smash everything at close range’ approach, I’d think you’d be all for more of that close-range smashing.” 

That time, he did risk a glance up at Thor, and it came just in time to see the god purse his lips in thought. “At one time, I might have said as much. I like to believe I have outgrown that childish notion.” 

That sounded fair enough, and Tony wasn’t about to pick a fight with one powerful alien when he was already worried about another one plotting his grisly murder. Besides, Loki had a very all-or-nothing mentality and an uncanny ability to nurse grudges, so it seemed entirely likely that he would never give Thor credit for changing his opinions to any substantial degree. So rather than press the point, Tony nodded and reached across the table for a wrench. In the process, he caught sight of Thor’s fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. 

“So. Something I can do for you?” 

Thor, seeming to realize he’d been caught fidgeting, almost sheepishly brought both hands up to fold them atop the table. “Aye. There are pressing matters on my mind which I would like to discuss with you.” 

To his credit, Tony thought, he didn’t immediately soil himself. “Uh, okay. Should I get a drink first?” 

Thor looked up at last, something almost like relief in his eyes. “If you do, I will take one as well.” 

“You got it,” Tony answered with a quiet laugh. Planting his feet against the bottom edge of the table, he kicked his rolling chair backwards and pedaled the last few feet to the mini-fridge. “Got a preference?” 

“Beer is fine.” 

“Not much of a beer drinker. You know me.” Tony moved a few partially filled bottles of vodka out of the way—along with a completely empty bottle of tequila that he had no memory of drinking—and finally found the prize. “But you’re in luck, ‘cause Clint is.” He rolled back to the table and handed one of the bottles to Thor, who accepted it with a grateful tilt of his head. 

“Thank you.” 

Tony pried the cap off his own bottle and held out the bottle opener, then chuckled and shook his head when Thor simply pulled it off with his fingers as though the cap was made from wet paper. He took a drink and set the beer back down on the table to go back to his work, pretending as though his heart wasn’t thudding loudly behind his ribs in anticipation of the vengeance of an angry god. 

“I confess to still being ignorant about much of your world,” Thor began after a long silence, half his beer already gone. “I am unfamiliar with your customs and phrases and . . . prejudices, so please don’t think me unfair or unkind. I mean no offense.” 

Tony couldn’t help the soft, surprise laugh that bubbled out of him. “First off, I kind of figured that you're still a fish out of water. Second, I'm the last person to be offended by anything. I don't think that's happened since sometime in the mid-‘80s. So whatever you want to say, just spit it out. I'm not gonna judge.” 

Thor went quiet for several more moments, so long that Tony might have thought he hadn’t been heard, if not for the pensive look on Thor’s face. 

“Are you fucking my brother?” 

The wrench banged noisily against the quiver when it slipped from Tony’s grasp, and damn, he really needed to work on his poker face. It seemed a perversion of expectations that it had only gotten worse since Loki had become a semi-permanent fixture in his life. “Whoa. That’s . . . wow. Okay, well, yeah, I did tell you to spit it out, so I guess that one’s on me.” 

“Forgive me. You said—” 

“No, I know. It’s okay. Just . . . not what I was expecting.” He was absurdly proud that his hand didn’t shake as badly as he felt it should when he picked the wrench up again. He was not, however, proud of the furtive looks he kept stealing and how uncomfortable Thor’s stare made him. “I feel like no matter what I say, this is gonna end badly for me. If I say yes, you’re gonna rip me in half. If I say no, you’re gonna be like, ‘Why? Is my brother not good enough for you?’ And then you’re still gonna rip me in half.” 

Thor held out a hand, palm out, in an apparent gesture of peace. “I can assure you, Tony Stark, I mean you no harm, regardless of your answer.” 

“Good to know,” Tony muttered. 

Several more seconds passed before Thor leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But I _would_ have your answer.” 

Tony shrugged. “Why would you think that? He’s kind of hot in that greasy, psychopathic elf kinda way, but—” 

“Loki does not resemble an elf of any sort. Surely, you are mistaken.” 

“Well, no, not like you think of elves, and—wow. How is this even an actual conversation I’m having right now?” When Thor had no answer to offer, Tony let out a nervous chuckle, hoping he was the only one who sensed the growing tension in the room. “What I’m saying is that he’s not the least attractive guy around, and in terms of would-be evil overlords, he’s top five, easily. But we’re not—” 

“You should know that I have spent my life learning to recognize Loki’s tells, and you have none of his talent for lying.” 

Tony bit the inside of his cheek to keep from spouting off a sarcastic reply that was likely to get his head crushed between those two massive hands that seemed so very comically large around the tiny beer bottle they held. 

Thor, meanwhile, furrowed his eyebrows as he waited for the reply that would not come, and he finally leaned forward again to force Tony to meet his gaze. “Are you and Loki . . . intimate with each other?” 

“Oh, God, stop,” Tony blurted immediately, letting go of his bottle so that he could press his fingertips to the center of his forehead. “That’s so much worse. Please just go back to saying we’re fucking.” 

“Then you are, aren’t you?” 

The seconds ticked by like hours, measured by the uncomfortably quick pace of Tony’s heart. And when the weight of Thor’s stare became too heavy to tolerate, Tony placed the wrench back on the table—without dropping it this time—and sighed. “Look, you obviously already know, so why are you asking me? You wanna hear me say it?” 

Thor leaned back, and if Tony didn’t know better, he’d swear the god looked relieved. “I had suspicions, but I had no solid proof. That’s all. Thank you. And thank Barton for sharing his ale with us, if you see him.” 

Tony’s mouth dropped open slightly when Thor downed the rest of his beer and got up to leave. He got as far as the door before Tony found the courage (or the stupidity) to stop him. “Wait, is that it?” 

Thor turned, obviously puzzled. “Is there something else you would like to tell me?” 

“God, no,” Tony shot back immediately. “I’m just a little confused here. That’s seriously all you wanted?” Thor nodded, but Tony, unconvinced, continued. “You’re not gonna warn me that he’s evil and probably going to eat my heart while I sleep? Or that _you’ll_ eat my heart if I hurt him or something?” 

Thor smiled, just a little, a tiny, heartbreaking thing that bore no resemblance to his usual ear-to-ear grin. “Loki is more than capable of defending himself. He does not need my help. And whatever our differences, whatever he may think of me, he is still my brother. You are my friend, and my ally. I want only for both of you to be safe and content, however you choose to do so.” 

“So you’re okay with . . . this?” 

“What is ‘this’?” Thor asked, genuine curiosity (and maybe a hint of overprotection) creeping into his tone. 

Tony made a face and tried to cover it with another drink. “Honestly? Not a damn clue. Something between fuck buddy and true love?” 

“Could it not be both?” 

“It’s not love.” 

“Nor is it merely physical.” Tony felt his back stiffen, but Thor cut him off before he could protest. “You miss him. Or her, as I believe he has taken to that form of late. You ask about him often.” 

“What if that’s just because he’s a really good lay?” 

Thor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Just because he can defend himself does not mean I care to have you speak so crassly of him.” 

“Like he doesn’t say worse?” 

The dark cloud over Thor’s face passed as quickly as it came, leaving in its wake another small grin. “Of course. In any event, I don’t believe that. You are like a god on this world, Stark, and you could take any consort you desire, yet you keep company with your machines and ask after my brother nearly every time you see me.” 

Damn. Loki definitely needed to give Thor credit for being much more observant than expected. Tony swallowed and let his gaze drift to the abandoned quiver on the table. “You’re not gonna tell anyone, right? You know about how well that’d go over.” 

“It is not my knowledge to share,” Thor answered after a moment of consideration. He reached for the handle of the door and closed his fingers around it before turning to look at Tony head-on. “But I will tell you that Loki will not allow himself to be kept secret for long.” 

There was a certain knowing sadness in his tone that was reflected in his eyes, one which even Tony, who had never been good at reading others’ emotions, could pick up on. He nodded after a time and raised his beer in acknowledgment, to which Thor inclined his head and departed. The door closed silently behind him, leaving Tony alone with his creations and his thoughts, and none of them held his interest right that moment, even when DUM-E came rolling by and nudged his arm before whirring away in the opposite direction. 

“JARVIS, you still got last night’s surveillance?” 

“On the personal server, yes, sir.” 

Tony took a deep breath and picked the wrench back up, balancing it on the back of his fingers. “Pull it up. Audio and video. Start from when I fell asleep.” 

Within seconds, a holographic display began to hover above the table. Tony felt that same familiar warmth in his blood when he saw her, this time behind him, one hand nestled under his. She rested on her elbow as she watched him, her other hand eventually coming up to trail over his arm. 

“Inlay my bio stats.” 

A small, inset window appeared in the bottom left corner of the video with a second-by-second reading of Tony’s vitals, a feature he had programmed JARVIS to monitor very soon after the arc reactor in his chest became a normal part of his everyday life. Several more minutes passed before he watched his vitals drop to indicate he had fully fallen asleep, and that was when Loki moved. Tony tapped the wrench lightly against his bottom lip as he watched her crawl across the bed to get closer, switching the hand holding his so that she could reach out and brush her fingers across his temple. She leaned in near his ear, but the angle of the security camera would not allow him to see her mouth moving. 

“Enhance audio.” 

Static filled the air as JARVIS amplified the sound in the video, and strain as Tony might, he couldn’t pick up anything that was said. He already knew how that was going to end; he’d gone over the footage repeatedly since the previous night, desperately trying to get any hint of what might be going through Loki’s mind. As usual, his efforts to pry Loki’s brain apart were in vain. 

As precisely the time he knew it would happen, Loki pulled away from him and climbed out of bed, her body fully on display for the camera—and she had to know it was there, given the way she turned to show off her exquisite form—and then covered herself in a shimmer of green light. When the glow dissipated, she was left in a knee-length green dress and long fur cloak, just normal enough to make her seem eccentric in this world rather than completely alien, and yet it looked like something distinctly Asgardian. 

She turned to give Tony a last look before waving a hand before her in a casual gesture. Almost as soon as the move was completed, she disappeared in the same green shimmer as that which had dressed her. 

“Stop playback.” JARVIS obeyed, and Tony grinned. “You got any plans today, J?” 

“I do not have any pending tasks.” 

“Good. We’re gonna work on tracking that asshole’s energy signature. I want some answers.”  


End file.
